What He Wasn't I will Be
by KAirismatic
Summary: Tiffany's cries of pregnant pains bring Chucky pains of his own. Rated for language
1. Chapter 1

"Fuck!"

Under normal circumstances, it would be a lovely thing to hear, but in this case, it was the last thing Chucky wanted for his wife pregnant of six months to be screaming.

He turned towards the hunched over bride, laying a hand on her shoulder. "You ok, there babe?" he asked, leaning over with her to look into venomous green eyes.

"Does it _look _like I'm fucking _ok_, Chucky?" she growled, rather feral. He nearly jumped away from her in shock, but the time he had spent with her had calloused him to her angered voice. He put up his hands in a surrendering gesture. "Geez, I was just asking," he prodded, trying to get her to lighten up. "Don't be such a bitchy teen drama."

"Say that when _you're_ dealing with morning sickness and contractions that come as a lovely surprise," she retorted, giving him a look that easily seemed to scream, _I'd love to see _you _pregnant and not be a bitchy teen drama_.

"Got it, got it, for fuck's sakes," he said, trying to reach for her, but she shoved him away. "Oh fuck _off_," she screeched, slapping at his hands. Clearly they were unwanted. She stood a bit and began to waddle away painfully. "You're not helping right now."

Chucky snarled and raised his hands in exasperation. Was he _ever _fucking helping with this woman?

He pushed over the small side table and let it hit the floor with a satisfying crash. Nothing was more calming to him than destruction. He laughed bitterly at that notion. He sounded just like his old man, liking to rip things apart when he was angry.

His father, the bastard, was an alcoholic.

Not to mention he was a terrible father and husband. Chucky remembered seeing his crazed, far from sober face as he would protest that he was. The son of a bitch would come in, nearly tearing down the door and knocking over everything in his path, including his mother and himself.

He'd always be screaming, "I ain't fuckin' drunk, _I ain't fuckin' drunk_."

Chucky snorted at the memory. _Yah, we can see that, old man_, he thought to himself. But it wasn't really as funny as he tried to play it out to be.

Because here and now, he had just done something just like that old bastard.

_When the fuck did I decide this whole family thing was a good idea?_

He couldn't answer himself on that one. What would it be like, having some small _thing _call him "Dad?" He'd never really thought about it- truth was, he hadn't really thought about being married before Tiffany had brought it up. He had always thought he'd be on his own for the rest of his life.

Which was why, unfortunately, he hadn't thought about what kind of a dad he would be. Would he be just like his own dad?

_Damn_. He hoped not. But the way he had just reacted earlier, he sure seemed to be going down that path. He sighed heavily. Would he be patient with kids, even? He wasn't even patient _now_, damn Tiffany and her morning sickness. How was he going to handle little ones who got sick all the fucking time?

Maybe they'd drive him crazy and he'd become an alcoholic, too?

Would he abandon them?

What if he became abusive? His dad had hit him and his own mother lots of times. His dad had left them behind. His dad had been into the drinks all the time- what if that was something that ran in their blood? Didn't they say that you learn from your parents or some shit like that?

He was screwed if that was true.

"_Chucky!_"

His wife's sudden screams brought him back to reality. Last he had checked, he was himself, not his dad. What the fuck was he even doing here, worrying about this, like his old man really had that much of a hold on him? Because he fucking _didn't. _

_His _name was Charles Lee Ray, and _his _wife was in pain, and _he _could decide how _he _would deal with anything that came across him, damnit!

With that thought firmly in place, he hurried to where she had waddled off to, now in the corner of their bedroom, still curled over on herself. She looked at him, fury still burning in her eyes, but he knew for a fucking fact that it wasn't at him. It was at the goddamn pain she was feeling.

"What can I do?" he asked, as gently as one could imagine him asking _anything_.

_He was his father's son, but he was not his father._

Tiffany gave a bitter smile. "Not much, really," she gave finally, holding her stomach. "You just gotta roll with it." She let in a sharp inhale before trying to calm herself and slowly breathe, in and out. "You wanna help me get over to the bed before I completely fall over like humpty-dumpty?" He laughed then, taking her hand and slowly aiding her painful walk before helpfully hoisting her up onto the mattress.

"I'm sorry about being a dick," he offered.

"I'm sorry for being a bitchy teen drama," she replied, grinning and holding his hand tighter as another wave of pain went through her. He moved his free hand to feel her stomach, smiling when he felt a rather feisty and strong kick. "Well, he's an independent little _shit_, ain't he?" he observed fondly, leaning over her to kiss where his hand had been.

Tiffany just smiled at him. "You're going to be a fine dad, you know that?" she began, a coy tone in her voice. "Dick head personality and all. We just _might_ be ok."

Chucky didn't say anything. He just stared at where his child was resting, hoping somehow, he-or she- could hear what his promise.

_What he wasn't, I will be. You remember that, you little shit._


	2. Chapter 2

For once, she wasn't waking up with the usual cramps that kept her from precious sleep at night. It was a rare blessing that came every once in a while. She lay still for a moment or so, just waiting for a small tingle or shot of pain to suddenly spring across her swollen belly, but none came, and she sighed in relief.

She knew that it would be wisest to close her eyes and return to a much-needed slumber, but the shift of an arm around her brought her attention to the love of her life. Scumbag that he was, she loved him, even if he did make her sometimes want to slit his throat.

_It'd just be another scar to add to the ones he's already got,_ she thought to herself humorously as she traced the crude stitch work on his face gently enough to not wake him. Granted, she needed sleep much more than he did, but she took the liberty to just enjoy the rare sighting. It wasn't a myth; people _did _look much more pleasant when asleep.

Not that she didn't like his face when he was awake- alright, well, at moments, she wanted to punch it inwards- but now he almost looked innocent.

Almost.

She grinned and bit her lip, mischievous thoughts now entering her mind as she laid her other hand across her stomach. Their lovemaking had been passionate, of course, how could it have been anything else. It had been full of love, but not without its spicy mixture of hate and primal need. As much as she found herself angry with him, she knew that they were two of a kind, and as they had become one that night, she found that they had much more in common than they did in contrast.

Sitting up slowly on the too lumpy, too moldable of a mattress, she leaned over him to kiss his forehead.

And then the pain came.

She groaned mid-kiss and the hand on her stomach tightened in agony.

She cursed under her breath. She should have _known _this peace wouldn't have lasted long. She leaned forward and took deep, shuddering breaths. How did that exercise go again?

"Fuck," she growled, unaware that her hand which had been caressing her husband's face was now gripping it with an unusual force.

"Goddamnit, Tiff what the hell-"

Sure, perhaps he was a _little _kinky, but this? He wasn't sure he was too on board with the whole _rip Chucky's face off like play-dough_ fetish right now. Especially when he was just waking up.

He peeled the iron-grip off of his face, most likely about to shout some obscenities of the most unintelligent kind, but the horrid sick look on Tiffany's face stopped the words before they hit the tip of his tongue. He sat up with a bit of worry tracing his features, putting his hand gently on her back. She only moaned in pain.

_That _was not a good sign. Normally she'd have screamed at him by now.

"Tiff- what's wrong?" he dared to ask, though he was a bit intimidated by what might be the answer. He rubbed her back as comfortingly as he could manage without feeling his masculinity be completely flushed down the drain.

"Chucky," she wheezed out, her grip now on his arms. Her green eyes were wide and luminous, and the pain she was struggling with was very evident to him (as if it hadn't been before!). She inhaled laboriously several times before she could speak again.

"I think- oh _god, _I think, it's time… the baby…"

Chucky froze in place. "What, _now_?" he asked incredulously. He tried to move and be useful, but the shock had him still, just watching as her face molded between pain and frustration at his incompetence. Her fingernails dug into his skin.

"_Yes_, you dumbass!" she screamed. Her husband snapped out of his trance and scowled at her.

"I got it, I _got _it," he griped back as he sprung into action. He placed his arm underneath her and tried to help lift her from where she was curled over herself.

"_Careful,_ you son of a…!"

"I got it, Tiff! Just… shut up!"

Tiffany growled ferally and made the most poisonous glance that she could at him. But seeing as she really had no other choice right now, she wrapped her arms around his neck and tried her best to put up with the slowly increasing pains that jolted though her lower abdomen. He held her as gently as he could, but as anyone who knew Charles Lee Ray could tell you, _gentle _was not exactly his forte.

"I said careful!"

This was _definitely_ one of those times when she wanted to punch his face inwards.


	3. Chapter 3

Eddie Caputo was not normally a man to show much affection, but his daughter Valentina was an exception to that rule. When she had come into his room asking if she could sleep with him _just for tonight_, it hadn't taken long for him to crumble under her wide eyes and pouty lips and let her slide in next to him under the worn blanket.

The noise out in the hallway brought his eyes open for a second time, and for a moment he couldn't figure out whether his daughter was up and about, or if it was the two doll-faces he'd let live with him tussling about again. It was a routine of theirs, to fight and then make up- preferably by having very passionate and _loud _sex.

Not the best for his daughter, but what was he to do, turn them out?

It sounded really angry though, and the small body next to him made him more aware and protective. Old habitual instincts just naturally kicked in, and he felt as if perhaps they were in danger. He reached under his bed for the old handgun just as he heard an angry desperate pounding one the door.

"Hey! _Hey_!"

He cocked the gun in his shaking hands. His little angel was still asleep, but the racket just on the other side of the door was beginning to shake her back into consciousness. He panicked as she mumbled and turned in her sleep, sure signs of waking soon.

If they were in trouble, he wanted to take care of it right away.

"Open up, you sorry bastard!"

He crept to the door as quietly as he could across old wooden boards. He heard his daughter shift again. Time was running out. He held a firm grip on the doorknob as the pounding continued, counting down silently to himself.

_3_

"I swear to god, if you don't _hurry the fuck up_…"

_2_

"I am going to…"

_1_

He swung the door wide and quick, pulling the gun in front of him in a threatening aim towards the hall.

"…_kill _you- woah, hey, you shit-brain, what the _fuck _are you doing with that?"

Eddie had to pause for a second before realizing what he was seeing in front of him. The adrenaline was still pulsing heavily through his body, and he for a fleeting moment, he felt extremely dizzy. He laid a hand on his chest and growled at the scarred-faced doll. "Christ, Chucky, you scared the _shit _out of me. You know I have a daughter, right?"

The doll tapped his foot impatiently, his wife screaming in his arms and clutching at him viciously.

"Got it, asshole, now could you _help me out?_"

The sudden rise of desperation in the ex-convict's voice brought Eddie to the attention of another problem entirely. His mouth fell open and he pointed, dumbstruck. "She's- she's not…?"

"_Yes!_"

It was Tiffany who spoke this time, and she was grimacing in pain. Her screams had given in to wails now. Chucky was shouting at him, "Let's _go_, you dumbass, we have _to go right now_!" while trying to support her as best as he could.

He sprung into action then, ransacking his room for his boots and his car keys. If he hadn't been such an untidy character, he might have found them right away, but his keys had already been covered with old clothes and bills that he intended to pay _eventually_, and his boots, it seemed, were on opposite ends of the globe.

Chucky was still screaming at him to hurry, and Tiffany was shouting at Chucky to pipe down. Eddie grimaced when he heard the faint sound of his daughter sitting up slowly, rubbing her eyes. Her hair was frazzled from her previous movement during slumber. She looked at him questioningly through bleary eyes.

"Daddy? What's going on?" she croaked out sleepily. "Why are the dollies screaming? Are they in trouble?" Her eyes widened as a familiar look of fear crept into them.

"Are we gonna have to move again?"

He felt his heart drop at the last question. Sure, they'd moved a lot back when he couldn't help his hand as it wandered on aisles of paradise and told himself _sure, it's for free_, but he hadn't thought it'd been so bad that his daughter had gotten used to running all the time. Apparently, he had been wrong.

"No, baby," he assured her, finding his other boot and lacing it up quickly. "There's nothing wrong. Your Auntie Tiff is just about to have her baby, that's all." He finished the last knot and stepped over to the side of the bed where she sat to kiss her gently on the forehead.

She smiled then. "Her baby's comin'?" she asked. "Is that why she's screaming? Because she's excited?"

Eddie chuckled at that. "Yeah, princess," he told her, tucking her up into his arm, pajamas and all. "I guess you could sorta say that, huh?"

He emerged from the room, waving a hand at Chucky. "C'mon, let's get in the truck," he said. Chucky hoisted his wife back up in his arms and ran behind him, with Tiffany being very vocal about how he was being anything _but _careful with her.

"I swear to god, Chucky, you are the worst…"

It was raining, of course, because Mother Nature apparently hated all of them, and it took all the two men had not to slip in the muddy ground or fall in the surprise potholes. Eddie swore it took him at least five tries to frantically push the key into the lock before finally accomplishing the usually simple task of unlocking the door. He could really quite tell if it was the rain, or the two dolls screaming obscenities at him and each other that made it so incredibly difficult.

Chucky tried his best to settle Tiffany into the car comfortably, but by now, no one was doing anything right. In fact, it was probably Valentina who was in the best mood out of the four of them; she was quiet as she watched her dubbed "Auntie" lean against her husband and breathe deeply and repeatedly, a tinge of curiosity and worry on her tiny brows.

Eddie adjusted the mirrors hastily and slammed his foot on the gas, turning the truck violently and swinging it out the driveway onto the road. The hospital was at least a good forty-five minutes away, and the way Tiffany was howling, it almost seemed that wasn't enough time. Eddie sighed and tried to calm himself as he pulled the truck onto the highway. He just needed to focus on getting them there.


	4. Chapter 4

Chucky internally appreciated how the doctors knew just what to do. He supposed they didn't go to medical school all those years for _nothing_. They didn't even stall to ask questions, they just took his screaming wife out of his arms and gently laid her out on a gurney, talking to her and calming her down. She responded positively to them, breathing as they suggested and slowly regaining her cool in preparation for the labor.

He almost felt a little chided, watching as they took over for him and carried her away. Even strangers, who didn't know Tiffany like he did, could deal with her better than he could. He sighed angrily and looked over to where Eddie was bouncing young Valentina on his lap, making her laugh at god-knows-what.

_He _apparently knew exactly what to do with the family he had. Chucky, however, was finding it hard to see himself doing the same for his to-be child.

He climbed up on the waiting chair next to the curly-headed man and watched sullenly for a few moments before Eddie noticed him there. "What's up?" he asked, mid-bouncing. Valentina was giggling and pulling at his curls. "Ow, baby, that _hurts_," he interrupted before the doll could answer. He took his daughter's hands in his and blew into the palms, making her laugh more. "Don't do that."

If a kid had pulled _his_ hair, Chucky was sure he would have cut them already. Wouldn't he?

"How the fuck do you do that?"

Eddie looked over curiously. "What do you mean?" He cocked an eyebrow towards him.

Chucky shrugged. "How are you so patient? When we were on the run you were worse than me." He fiddled with his thumbs idly, unsure of what to say. "And I thought you _hated _kids."

The magazine on the counter suddenly looked very interesting. It was National Geographic, for fuck's sake, but he couldn't stop staring at it instead of looking Eddie in the eye.

"I just don't know if I can do this…"

Eddie stopped bouncing Valentina for a moment and distracted her with some of the waiting room toys. "What do you mean?" he asked, leaning over towards him. "You're an ass, sure, but so am I, remember?" He put a heavy hand on the plastic shoulder. "You'll do just _fine_."

Chucky snorted. "I don't think I can do _kids, _Ed," he confessed. "Just watching you and your little shit-ball of energy makes me dizzy.

"I'm going to let that slide and say it's the stress," Eddie teased, punching Chucky in the arm. "But I gotcha." His voice lowered, almost gentle, as he watched his daughter play. "It's different when it's yours. They become your whole world, shit-balls and all."

He sat back and put his hands behind his head, closing his eyes. There was a moment where the only sounds were that of other patients being wheeled in and doctors calling orders before the curly-headed man spoke again. "You know," he mused, opening one eye to peer down at Chucky. "I remember when I first had little Valentina dropped off into my life. You remember that?"

Chucky frowned, nodding slowly.

Eddie chuckled lowly. "Tiff hadn't been pregnant for very long, I remember. When I tried telling you two about how I had to keep her, she started crying and you got pissed at me."

Here Chucky laughed with him. "When do I _not _get pissed at you, you bastard?" he asked.

Eddie shrugged and continued. "I had been off my rocker a bit that moment too. I had almost thought that maybe I should just leave little Valentina. I mean, her own mother cared little enough of her to just drop her off at my doorstep without a single word, and my little girl was only two. I had thought to myself, _why should I even bother?_"

"But when I heard her crying for her mama as that woman drove off and left her behind, I realized, this was my _flesh and blood_. I couldn't just fucking leave her," Eddie gave a small snort, but his smile was bitter. "Being left behind sucks ass- you and I both know that. So, I had taken Valentina in and she'd been just _furious_, hittin' me, kicking and crying and screaming like a banshee and trying to get out of my arms! I ended up just talking calmly to her, about never leaving her and rocking her until the poor thing was all cried out and sucking her thumb."

Valentina had made a new friend with another girl and they were sharing a blue train. The dimples on Valentina's face were prominent as the two shared secrets only little girls can share and giggle about. Eddie watched her for a minute, adoration very clear on his face. "It was the best decision I'd ever made."

Chucky hummed in response thoughtfully. "I remember what Tiff had said then, too."

Eddie cocked his eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah- she said 'Eddie, you may have been a _lousy_ friend to both of us in the past, but you're a good dad.'"

Eddie laughed loud, and some of the people in the hospital looked up in surprise at his sudden guffaw. "That she did, that she did," he agreed, nodding his head in remembrance. He held his sides for a bit to compose himself and slowly sobered. "I'd like to think," he murmured more seriously. "that if nothing else, I'm at least good at that."

Chucky nodded and gave sound of approval. "Me too, man," he responded quietly. "Me fuckin' too."

Eddie just smiled. "You'll be a good parent," he assured him. "You and Tiffany both. You're a couple of screwballs, but you'll be great. I know it."

The doll wanted to reply and give some sort of thanks, but the door opened again and a young, nervous nurse in purple scrubs appeared. "Ray?" she called, unsure. When the doll stood, she gave him a quick glance-over, but seemed to regain focus in a matter of seconds.

"Your wife's going into labor."

Eddie had waved him off before he followed the nurse into the room where Tiffany lay, kicking and screaming. "Fuck- _fuck!" _she was yelling, gripping onto one of the other nurse's arms. Chucky could see how tight her grip was. Her hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat, and her face was a bright red.

Chucky rushed over to her side and tried to get a hold of her hand, but she was still thrashing wildly with each contraction. "Tiff, babe, it's me, it's Chucky," he tried in an attempt to soothe her, but she growled at him, eyes wide and swirling with hormonal emotions.

"_You_," she hissed, and he braced himself. He reached for her hand again but she slapped him away this time. "It fucking _hurts_!" she screamed at him, chest heaving as she pushed again. A larger nurse was pressing a cold cloth against her head, but it didn't seem to cool the rage that was burning from the inside.

"I know, babe, I know…"

"Fuck you! You don't know! This is _your _fucking fault! Ah- god, I _hate _you!" she screamed before he could even begin to try and comfort her. He scowled. It stung, the fact that she would say that to him, and even though he _knew _that she was only screaming from the pain, it still hurt. It was worse for him because everyone around could hear her, and he could feel their stares.

They probably thought he'd raped her. It was embarrassing, and he _hated _being shamed in public this way.

"I wouldn't even _be _here in the first place if you hadn't…!"

"What?" he snapped back, enraged. "Hadn't given you the love you asked from me? Hadn't supplied for you everything you could ever need or want? Bitch- fuck _you_! You think I wanted to be in this damn mess? Maybe you should've just had a damn abortion and killed the thing!"

Tiffany stopped mid-scream. At first, he'd thought he'd won, but the silence- save for her harsh breathing and moan from every once in a while- was even more frightening. Her green eyes sparkled with a deep fury.

"Get… Out…" she panted determinedly. Another contraction hit her then, and she moaned into it and pushed as the doctor told her to. Neither of the two could see the confused and frantic faces of the hospital crew around them.

Chucky swallowed nervously. "Tiff, I…"

"Get _out!" _she screamed, the pain of the next push propelling her energy.

He took a step back. "_Fine_," he spat. "I never wanted to be a father, anyways."


	5. Chapter 5

_I didn't want to be a father._

_I didn't want to be a fucking father. _

Tiffany felt her blood run cold. Did he really just use the same words her father had once used? Had he really?

She screamed again, this time not only of pain, but of fear. The nurse tried to comfort her, but she was past consolation at this point. The pain was terrible, and she was feared it was all for nothing. She shut her eyes and just continued to cry and howl as the doctor told her as calmly as he could, "keep pushing, miss, you've got it, you've got it. There- come on, it will be ok…"

"I _can't_!"

Her vision was getting blurry. She couldn't tell if it was because she was crying or that she had fallen into some sort of a panic attack. She just kept screaming and _screaming_, and she saw blood everywhere she looked. Was it running down her legs? Wasn't that too much blood for a normal labor?

She heard a voice next to her. What? What was he saying?

"I can't do this," she cried, still breathing heavily.

"Tiff, I'm going to hold your hand, babe. I got you. I got you."

She screamed again, pushing as hard as she could. Why wouldn't it just come out already? Each wave seemed to hurt worse than the last, and she felt as if she was just pumping out blood vessels that she'd popped somewhere along the way. Why did everything _hurt _so much? She'd stopped speaking words a long time ago, and only incoherent screams were flying out of her mouth as she clung onto the hand that had grabbed hers a few moments ago.

"There, there you go. You did it, miss, you've got it," she could barely hear the doctor say.

Her heartbeat was still going erratically, but she was slowly feeling the rush die down. She tried to catch her breath again. Shuddering sobs escaped from her chest, and she squeezed the hand in hers again.

"Baby, it's me, it's me. You did it." She could see the fuzzy shape of her husband beside her. He was leaning over her sweaty body and kissing her cheek. "You did it. It's over, it's over."

What? She started to panic again. "The baby, the baby, where is my baby?" she started to ask, a sudden fear creeping in. What had all that blood been? She looked around her frantically. "Where is my baby?"

"Relax miss," one of the nurses told her comfortingly. "Your baby is _fine_. He's a healthy baby boy."

She almost couldn't believe what she was hearing, but the doctor took the small bundle out of the nurse's hands and gently laid it into Tiffany's shaking arms, his gentle, golden eyes assuring her it was okay. She looked down into the thick swaddle of blue cloth to see a pair of green eyes staring up at her, crying and screaming, but very much alive. She sniffed and smoothe the tufts of bright red hair, loving every inch of her newborn with every passing second.

The awkward cough from beside brought her attention back to the figure beside her. He was looking sheepishly at the two of them. She smiled softly and put a hand out on his arm. "It's ok, Chucky," she told him. She held out the newborn child towards him and watched sadly as he visibly shrunk away from it.

"I- I can't," he muttered, a bit of anger in his voice, but so much hurt.

She shook her head. "Here, stop that. I'll show you," she said, gently helping him adjust to the weight of the baby in his arms. "See? It's not that bad." She saw his eyes light up just a bit when the baby didn't start screaming or crying again, but instead began gurgling. "I think he likes you."

He colored just a little bit, but she could see that his anger was slowly melting. "Well, well, hey there, kiddo," he murmured, even finding the courage to touch the little one's face. "So you've got my hair, huh? You cute little shit."

Tiffany smiled and leaned back against the pillows. The doctor came and sat beside her, and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I told you it would be ok," he said softly. "I knew you could do it."

She sighed. "I know, but you understand, right? If I had to go through any of that sort of a trauma a second time…"

"What?"

She froze and turned back towards the scarred-faced doll, who was looking at her with a furious curiosity. "What are you talking about, Tiff?" he asked, still holding the baby, rather well, she observed. But that wasn't the point as of now. She swallowed nervously. "Baby," she whispered. "Don't be angry…"

"Would you just fucking _tell _me already?"

She felt herself shattering a bit, but the doctor squeezed her shoulder in comfort. "Chucky, do you remember that night when you were shot really badly? When Eddie had to take you to the hospital and I couldn't be there with you?" He was just watching her now, worry and wonder showing in his expression. She stuttered through her next few sentences.

"I…"

She clutched the thin coverlets on the bed.

"I was pregnant with your baby. Another child." When her husband didn't say anything and just stared, she knew he was waiting for an explanation.

"She didn't make it."

His face dropped, and his mouth made an _o_ shape. She felt tears welling up in her eyes again. "It was hard, Chucky, sitting there and being told that there was no one there to hold in my arms," she began to cry. He scooted closer to her and leaned his head against her. He was breathing heavily.

"Tiff, you never told me. I didn't know."

She shrugged through her tears, but she felt him nuzzle into her arm. They lay there like that for a moment, as the scarred-faced doll took in everything she had just had to tell him. "I'm sorry, babe," he kept saying every once in a while, with her softly assuring him that everything was alright now.

It passed an hour or so before everything calmed down, and Chucky suddenly sat up. "Eddie!" he exclaimed, eyes wide. "I left the poor bastard and his kid out there waiting on us!" He tucked their newborn child into her arms again before rushing out the door, telling her, "I'll be back!"

She waited patiently for him to return, rocking her little one. "So, you're our precious baby boy, huh?" she asked him as if he could reply. He just made little sounds at her. "What shall I name you, hmn?" she wondered aloud. She tapped her chin in thought. The baby just wiggled in his blankets, almost as if he were impatient to know the answer.

"Aha!" she said, tapping his nose. "Glen. I always liked that name. Glen. We'll have to tell your father about it when he gets back."

Speaking of the devil, Chucky came back into the room sniggering into his hand. "Tiff, the son of a bitch's out there, drooling with his head lopped over like a dead giraffe!" he announced, hardly holding in his laughter. "He's drooling on his daughter's dress- oh, _god,_ where's a fucking camera when you need one!"

She smiled and giggled to herself just a little. She was in love with such an ass.

**AN**- Ahh look who finished this gigantic request in a better amount of time than usual? I hope you like it, dear!

To my followers in general, I will be updating Crash soon, and then I will be working on a fanfiction of a different fandom entirely. If you're a Hobbit (Thilbo) fan, hopefully you will be pleased to know I will be working on my second chapter of "Home Is Where the Heart Sings"


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